How weird is this?
by Granad
Summary: Something is not right. Either Atobe is crazy or there really is someone in his head and yet not. Could it be that parallel universes do exist or is it just the fates messing with him? Even I don't know.


**I do not own Prince of Tennis**

****Here's a new story. It was supposed to be a oneshot but every time I start to add onto the first bit, I end up going back and just brushing it up over and over again. So I'm posting this now and the other part will come by the end of the month. Enjoy

* * *

I don't want to make an exhibition of my life. It is so degrading to have to do this however I feel that it would be appropriate to leave an account of the past two years and the months I have left.

There are two things you need to know before I start. Two years ago, my family moved back to Japan. I was immediately enrolled in Hyoutei Middle School, the most prestigious middle school in the country. I set out to rule the school even before I got-

"Are you stalking me again kid?"

-back. I had it all planned out even before we left Britain.

"I can see your ugly plaid trousers!"

That is the Seigaku high school tennis coach. Echizen Ryoma. He thinks he is brilliant… and the best tennis player in the world. But if he is, why is he a high school coach? I shall take this opportunity to mention that Echizen Ryoma is the cause of all my problems.

"Grow some balls and get out here. _Fuckin' stalker_"

Ignore him. I am not a stalker. I wouldn't stoop so low as to stalk an old geezer. I'd simply hire someone to follow him if I was interested. And he's actually not that old.

"Get out here or I'll call your parents and tell them you're at it again."

He is also a major coward; likes to use threats because he cannot get anything done any other way. He got me in this mess but instead of trying to help me fix it, he just keeps throwing threat after threat at me. Just like he did two weeks ago.

"Ah… finally –I knew you were there. No one else struts around in _plaid _trousers."

"These are classy pants." I'm touchy about my clothes. I like the way posh Brits dress. It's not my fault that the Japanese don't understand fashion.

"Why don't you go do stuff with kids your age?" He's patronizing me again.

"I don't want to." It's a growl that leaves my throat before I can stop it. I hate sounding so uncultured and it's sitting badly with me.

"Look, you might think you're punishing me but you're only punishing yourself; it's a waste of your childhood."

"Not much of that left."

"Is that what this is about? That comment? I didn't mean it; I'd had a bad day and you were getting on my last nerve with your stupid questions. For what it's worth, I think you'll live to the ripe old age of 100."

"Don't patronize me! You meant every word and now you're just too chicken shit to say it. I didn't ask for this. I don't want to die at bloody 16!"

"You just cussed –I haven't heard you cuss once in the six months you've been following me."

"And you have obviously been keeping count. When does my time run out?"

"I'm not having this conversation and I'm calling your parents." He's off his favorite bench and heading off the tennis court but he has to get by me and I quickly step into his path. His glare might have given me pause the first two times, but I'm over it now.

"I deserve to know"

"Well I don't fucking know!"

"Yes you do," I counter as calmly as I can after a full minute. I'm not calm –you wouldn't be if you were in my shoes. I pretend.

"I can't tell you what you want to hear. I was talking out of my ass that night!"

"You know!" I scream finally. I never scream.

"What do you want to hear huh? I can't go around telling kids that they'll be dead in three weeks!"

And yet he just did. That's a lot less time than I thought I had.

"Three weeks…"

"I don't think it actually means anything. You won't die."

I surely don't want to die but his argument rings hollow in my ears. One thing I know about this man is that he isn't cruel. If he says I'm going to die, he must have thought about it and I have to consider it as a real possibility. All I need to know is the precise date so I can make adjustments to my plans and ensure my demise is as elegant as my person requires.

"Give me a date"

"What?"

"The day I die –when is it?"

He's looking at me oddly and it's only when he speaks that I know why.

"Don't cry man –I'm not an expert on this stuff. You probably won't die. It's not like -"

I feel the first tear fall and I cannot understand it. I'm not sad about this. I don't want to die but at least I can make it as dignified as possible. And yet there are tears. I don't want to make sense of it, any more than I want to hear Echizen lie to me and do it badly. I do something unexpected.

He tastes sweet. Like soda

Ouch. And now I'm on the ground looking up into his incredulous face. I hope I look just as incredulous. Why did he shove me away? He should be honored that I'd kiss him –a mere commoner.

"I'm calling your parents"


End file.
